


in this white frozen world

by colorsofmyseason



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arsenal FC, Future Fic, Gen, La Liga, M/M, Real Madrid CF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorsofmyseason/pseuds/colorsofmyseason
Summary: After a slight falling-out regarding his position as Arsenal's number one goalkeeper, Bernd Leno goes on loan to Real Madrid.It goes as well as one would expect.
Relationships: Bernd Leno/Marc-André ter Stegen
Comments: 19
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I want to clarify that I do not, and I'm saying it again, I do NOT want this to happen, ever. I love Arsenal and I love that Bernd plays for Arsenal, and I wish that he can still play for them for many, many years to come. And I also highly doubt that Arsenal's management will ever let something like this happen. But I read that Bernd idolizes Iker Casillas and even once dreamed of playing for Real Madrid, and I just thought, "What if he moves there for real and then meets Marc in El Clásico?" so there you have it.
> 
> This fic is set in the future, during the winter transfer window and the second half of 2020/21 season to be precise.
> 
> Also, please note that I know next to nothing about Real Madrid since they've never been one of my favorite clubs, so please forgive me if I get something wrong.
> 
> Warning: English is not my first language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of background story for this fic:
> 
>   * Bernd got injured at the start of 2020/21 season, so his position was taken by Emi Martínez (Arsenal’s current second-choice goalkeeper).
>   * Even after he recovered, Bernd’s only been used sparingly, much to his frustration.
>   * Thibaut Courtois was released from his contract at the start of the season due to some falling-out with the management, thus leaving Real with only Alphonse Areola and Luca Zidane in the goalkeeping position, both of which have failed to deliver accordingly to the expectation.
>   * Bernd’s brought to Real Madrid as some sort of emergency measure during the winter transfer window. He agrees with the move because it’s always been his dream to play for Real, also he hopes for more game time.
>   * In Real Madrid, Bernd takes Courtois' old number (13).
> 


Marc has just returned home from training when his phone rings. He doesn’t need to look at the screen to know that it’s Bernd who’s calling him.

“I’ve just gotten an offer,” is what the other keeper says when he picks up the phone, not even bothering to say hello.

Marc knows better than to be offended by Bernd’s idea for a greeting, and he also understands that whenever his boyfriend’s acting like this, it means that there’s something really urgent that Bernd needs to tell him. And Marc has to admit, those five words, as simple as they may sound, are something really important for footballers, something that may decide their future for years to come.

“An offer?” Marc asks, leaning to his chair. “From who??”

Bernd inhales. “From Real Madrid. They want me.”

Marc’s jaw drops open. “What?????”

This of course earns him a snort from his boyfriend, and Marc can hear the eyeroll from the other end of the line as Bernd speaks again, “Really??? _That_ is your reaction?? So you think I’m actually not good enough for Real Madrid, or what??”

“No, no, of course not,” Marc quickly denies, though he knows that Bernd knows he doesn’t mean it that way. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I mean, as far as I know there hasn’t been speculations or anything in the media about Real Madrid wanting you, and suddenly you call me and tell me this.”

“I know,” is his boyfriend’s response, “it’s all so sudden for me as well, but with all the situation with _their_ goalkeeper going around, and _my_ own situation in Arsenal, and the winter transfer window closing soon, I think they’re a bit desperate to land their hand on a goalkeeper, therefore they’ve made inquiries about me.”

Marc falls silent as he tries to digest everything that Bernd has told him, and its possible impact for their future.

He knows that since Bernd got injured at the start of the season, he’s been replaced by Emi Martínez as Arsenal’s first-choice keeper, and even now when he’s fully recovered, he hasn’t played as much as he wants to, and Bernd has voiced his frustration about it to Marc more than once. Marc also knows that since Thibaut Courtois, Real’s former first-choice keeper, has left the club at the start at the season because of some disagreements with the director board or something, his replacements hasn’t been able to deliver accordingly to the expectations. So perhaps that’s why Real wishes to bring Bernd in, to add some experience and stability to their goalkeeping position.

“How many years of contract they offer you?”

“Just a loan until the end of the season, with the option to buy, so well, there’s always a possibility I will return to Arsenal later.”

Now it’s Marc’s turn to snort. “Really?? No offense to your current club, but you’re really going to skip a chance to permanently join one of the biggest clubs in the world for _Arsenal_??”

“Hey, we don’t know yet how this loan move will work for me, if I accept it at all of course,” Bernd reminds him. “What if I can’t fit in and later fuck up? Then they’ll be all too happy to see my back at the end of the season.”

Marc blinks, once, twice, and then mentally slaps himself for being such a bad boyfriend.

For only now does the Barcelona keeper notice the slight tremor in Bernd’s voice, the uncertainty lying underneath his supposedly nonchalant tone, the fear that must’ve been creeping through his heart. And Marc understands why. While a move to Real Madrid may be a career jump for Bernd if he agrees to it, and it’s been Bernd’s dream to play for that Spanish club anyway, it can also ruin everything should he fail – his usual position as number one goalkeeper wherever he is, the possibility to find a new club if Arsenal kicks him away, and forget playing for the national team, his chance to getting called at first place may disappear forever.

(Also, Marc won’t be happy if Bernd doesn’t get calls from Jogi anymore. No, he truly won’t. Because despite of their ever-so-present rivalry and everything that has happened between them, they’re boyfriends now first and foremost, and Marc actually looks forward to international breaks since they provide him with the means to meet Bernd in person. Besides, he knows he always plays and trains better whenever the slightly older keeper is around to remind him to fight for his position as Manuel’s direct understudy.)

But Marc has been in Bernd’s place before. And he thinks he’s in a worse position than Bernd back then. He was far younger, he had never won any silverware with Gladbach, he had yet to make a name for himself, while Bernd right now has pretty much established himself as one of the best shot-stopper in Premier League, arguably the best and hardest football league in the whole world. Marc also had had no one to accompany and guide him back then, being the only German in the squad, but Real has Toni Kroos who may be able to help Bernd settling down. Last but not least, Marc was brought to Barcelona to replace Víctor Valdés, a goalkeeping legend in a way, thus he had quite a big boot to fill there. Real’s situation is more or less similar to the one Bernd faced back then when he joined Arsenal – a club who has faced a certain period of goalkeeper uncertainty, and therefore probably only expects someone who can do better than the ones they’re currently having. And Marc is sure that Bernd is the right man for the job.

With all those things in mind, he doesn’t find it difficult at all to say in all honesty, “I don’t think you need to worry so much about it, Bernd. I mean, this is _Real Madrid_. All rivalry aside, I can say objectively that they’re a good, solid team. And I’m sure they won’t simply choose anyone no matter how desperate they may be, unless they’re really sure that player will suit their tactics and play. And I know our playing style is different but I always think you’re a good goalkeeper in your own way, and will always find a way to succeed wherever you go. Sure there will be risks, there’ll always be certain risks in any choice you make, but if you don’t face it then you won’t be able to step forward. And I know playing in Real Madrid has always been your dream. Take the chance, I say. Whatever comes out of it, we’ll work through it when the time comes.”

Bernd doesn’t say anything but Marc can hear the gears turning under the other keeper’s blonde hair right now.

“And oh, I heard Real’s defense line is pretty good.”

Another silence. One minute, two minutes pass without any sound from the other end of the line, and Marc is about to voice his concern when Bernd finally lets out a snort. “You just love to rub that in with every chance you have, don’t you??”

“What??” Marc says with all innocence. “That’s the truth and you know it.”

A long sigh, and then Bernd speaks again, a tinge of amusement inside his otherwise resigned tone, “Also, you just can’t wait to face me in one of the biggest game on earth, can you??”

“Huh?” Marc asks, confused.

“El Clásico?” Bernd says like it’s supposed to be obvious. “Barcelona vs Real Madrid? If I do sign for Real, and they include me in the starting eleven, we’re going to face each other on regular basis, no??”

Marc blinks as realization dawns upon him, but at the same time he can’t help smiling. He and Bernd may be boyfriends now, but neither of them will forget their starting point as rivals, and Bernd pointing out about the El Clásico thing is just so…Bernd. And well, _of course_ it will come down to that. Previously, when Bernd’s still playing for Leverkusen or Arsenal, they could only meet each other on the pitch if they happened to be drawn against each other in Champions League, or maybe some pre-season match, but if the slightly older keeper now plays in La Liga, they can face each other at least twice a season, maybe more if they also meet in Copa del Rey.

“I honestly didn’t think about it before,” Marc admits, “but yeah, that kinda makes sense. After all, there’s no better way of proving who’s actually the better one between us unless we _truly_ face each other in a big game between two equally strong teams, so…”

“See? Always so competitive.”

“You started it, asshole, you’re the one who mentioned El Clásico first.”

They exchange a few more friendly banters regarding Real Madrid-Barcelona rivalry before both of them decide to wrap it up and call it a night, Bernd not saying anything about his possible transfer anymore but Marc knows that his boyfriend has made his decision.

-

Toni is there alongside with a few Real Madrid staffs when Bernd lands on Madrid Barajas International Airport, and he greets Bernd with a short hug.

“Welcome to Madrid,” Toni says with a smile. “Since Sami left for Juventus, there hasn’t been any Germans in the squad anymore. I’m really glad that you’re here, Bernd.”

“Likewise,” Bernd replies, returning the hug. Despite being fellow German internationals, he and Toni have never been that close, but nevertheless he’s thankful that the older man is there to help him settle down in Madrid.

They sit in comfortable silence inside the car until Toni finally speaks in German, “Anyway, _he_ knows that you’re transferring here, no?? How did _he_ react??”

Bernd doesn’t ask whom Toni’s talking about. “He’s good with it,” he answers easily. “In fact, he’s the one who convinced me to make this move.”

Toni’s eyes grow wide. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

“But…he does realize that you’re going to play for Real Madrid, no?? Barcelona’s biggest rival of all time?? Though you two may be geographically closer now, with all the animosity between the Culés and the Madridistas…”

“He’s good with it,” Bernd repeats, “also you should’ve known better than anyone that this rivalry thing is nothing new for us, no??”

Toni stares at him as if he’s just grown two heads before heaving a sigh. “Oh, yeah, sorry I forgot. You and Marc started as rivals, it must’ve been a delight that the two of you now can be enemies for real.”

“Not exactly,” Bernd laughs, “but yeah, I guess El Clásico will be a good way to prove which one of us is actually the better keeper.”

Toni rolls his eyes. “ _Of course_ you guys will see it that way.”

“That’s just how our relationship works, I guess.”

They don’t talk much after that aside from Toni pointing out about some places and buildings they happen to drive past, but as Bernd looks outside the window, noticing the view and the shining sun despite of it being winter, he realizes something.

He may or may not stay here for long, but for now, Madrid is his home.

And he thinks he can get used to it very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S.: Bernd indeed has named [Iker Casillas](https://ronaldo.com/football-news/leno-names-iker-casillas-as-his-footballing-hero/) as his footballing hero, and he once stated that he [dreamed of moving to Real Madrid](https://www.goal.com/en/news/laliga-bundesliga-real-madrid-bayer-leverkusen-bernd-leno/16g7d7c7o3qin1v7dpnbkkp8du). I wish it will never, ever happen though. Lol.
> 
> Hope you all like this chapter.
> 
> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after what happened yesterday, I had doubts regarding this story. I feel like I cursed Leno somehow, since I wrote this shit and then he got injured :'( but on the other hand I couldn't just leave this story hanging, so there you have it.
> 
> And yes, I add one more chapter since it turns out the conclusion's taking longer than I've predicted.
> 
> Get well soon, Leno. We all love you and we want you to be fine. Especially because Arsenal's honestly nothing without you.

The next few days goes in a flurry – contract signing, press conference, medical check-up, stadium tour, and finally a photoshoot in his new jersey. It’s yellow, unlike the blue or green ones he had at Arsenal back then, but with the same kit maker and sponsor name blazing on the front, Bernd thinks that aside from the badge on his left chest, the kit itself isn’t much different anyway.

(He secretly asks for one of the photos afterwards to be sent to Marc before they’re released to the media. He can see that the Barcelona keeper already sees it but says nothing until they have a video-call that night.

“Stop wearing yellow,” is the first thing Marc tells him when he picks up the call. “It might as well be an actual sunshine you’re wearing there and…”

Bernd rolls his eyes. “Is that a compliment or an insult? I can’t tell.”

“It’s a compliment,” Marc says, also rolling his eyes. “It means that you do look exceedingly bright in that jersey, but do I really need to spell it out for you to realize it??”

“No one gives compliments like that, you idiot. Besides it’s the official kit, it’s not like I have any say in choosing the color.”)

And then comes the first training with Real Madrid squad. Toni has offered to pick him up and drove him, but Bernd has refused, stating that he already knows the way and Toni would have to make quite a detour to get to Bernd’s apartment first before going to the training complex. Besides he’s going to drive himself in the future anyway, so better start sooner than later.

Toni still waits for him when he arrives at Valdebebas. They smile at each other before Toni leads him to the dressing room. No word is exchanged between them, but Bernd doesn’t think Toni minds it anyway. Both of them have never been the most outspoken people in the national team, and they can just easily sit together and say nothing to each other without feeling awkward.

The lockers, like the ones in Arsenal, are sorted according to the squad number, so his is located slightly in the middle of everyone else’s, wedged between Marcelo’s and Casemiro’s. Looking at it now, with his new jersey hung on it, Bernd can’t help remembering his old locker on the corner of Arsenal’s dressing room. Bernd likes that place since while he doesn’t mind the usual commotion in the dressing room, he doesn’t particularly enjoy to be in the middle of it. But the number 1 in Madrid has been given to Alphonse Areola, and unless the French keeper moves away at the end of the season or something, Bernd knows he can’t expect to have it. Well, if he himself decides to stay of course.

“Oooh, here comes the Gooner.”

Bernd turns around to find Gareth Bale smirking at him, looking more like a monkey than anything else. While that statement may be perceived as something irritating, Bernd’s only glad that there’s someone who speaks English in the squad, and he knows Bale doesn’t mean it in a bad way anyway. So he only grins back and responds, “Says the one who used to play for the Spuds.”

The Welsh winger laughs good-naturedly and pats Bernd on the back. “You’ll fit in just fine. I can see that.”

More and more Real Madrid players come into the dressing room and greet him, some in Spanish and some in English. He’s thankful that Marc has taught him some Spanish, enough to exchange some pleasantries with his new teammates, though he knows he’d be lost in conversation once they start chattering with each other. But it’s not that bad so far, he thinks. At least no one tries to pick up on him or something.

(Alright, Sergio Ramos may be more than a little scary, and his squeeze on Bernd’s hand may be a bit harsher than necessary, but they’re teammates now, so the infamously rough defender won’t try to injure him in training or something, right?)

Then Zizou comes and ushers them to start training, and as Bernd trudges back alongside his teammates to the field, the coach taps him on the shoulder. “You alright?”

Bernd doesn’t know whether the coach means to ask if things are alright in the dressing room or in general or anything else altogether, but he responds anyway. “Everything’s alright,” he answers carefully in broken Spanish. “The lads are nice. I’m good, too.”

He doesn’t know whether that’s what Zizou needs to hear from him, but the coach nods. “I’m glad to hear that,” he says. “Do your best, and we’ll see whether you’ll get to play.”

Bernd’s smart enough to understand the implication behind those words, so he only gives a small but firm nod before he follows the other goalkeepers to the pitch. He can feel Zizou’s eyes burning through him as he does his training drills.

-

He doesn’t get a place in the starting eleven for Real’s first La Liga game after winter break, which is annoying, but honestly not that surprising. He knows that the coaches think he needs some time to adapt to the league, despite having played at England previously, and Zizou has told him that he needs to prove himself first, so he just nods and complies.

Marc, on the other hand, is pretty furious when he hears about that.

“Why did they bring you there at first place if you would only spend your time sitting on the bench??” he demands over the phone after Bernd has told him about Zizou’s decision.

Bernd only shrugs. “They think I need more time to adapt,” he says with all calmness he can muster. “Usual stuff for a new player. You know how it is, Marc.”

Marc scoffs. “That’s bullshit. You used to play in the Premier League, and people say it’s harder than La Liga. I don’t think adaptation will be a problem for you. And what did that baldie say again?? You need to prove yourself?? Well, how the hell does he expect you to do that if he doesn’t let you play at first place??”

Bernd smiles at his boyfriend’s indignation, and, again, he’s reminded of the reason why he actually loves Marc so much. “That’s their final decision, Marc. I can’t do anything about it. I myself don’t know why, maybe I did worse in training than Areola, or something else. Besides, I’m here as a loanee, some sort of emergency keeper for them, and if they want to keep me until something really urgent happens, then I’ll just comply. And keep doing my best to get chosen, of course.”

“You’re too patient,” Marc snaps, still seething angrily. “If I were you, I would demand to be given a chance to play and…”

“Not everyone’s like you, babe, and while I enjoy seeing you shout at your back four during games, I think I’m sticking with my own approach, thanks.”

A few seconds of silence, followed by a soft huff. “Well, don’t come crying to me if later it turns out you just spend all your loan move in benchwarming duty.”

Bernd laughs. “I won’t. They brought me in to fix their goalkeeping problem, remember? I’m bound to get some game time, sooner or later, I’m sure.”

“I hope so.”

The matchday comes, and Bernd suits up in his new kit before joining his fellow backup players on the bench. It’s a home game against Celta Vigo, who’s currently struggling to avoid relegation, and theoretically Real will be able to beat them, no problem. Still, Areola looks really nervous as he walks behind Sergio Ramos to the pitch.

They don’t win. Celta Vigo plays surprisingly hard and fast, and before they know it, they’ve conceded three goals. An equalizer from Bale at the 36th minute, a penalty from Benzema and a last minute tap-in from Vinicius manage to save their face, but Bernd knows that they still have a lot of work to do in order to fix things up and keep themselves in the title run.

Zizou certainly isn’t satisfied with the result, and Bernd overhears him scolding Areola after the game. He doesn’t know what the coach says for he’s talking in French, but his tone certainly indicates his displeasure, and that makes Bernd kinda feels bad for the younger keeper. Not all three of Celta’s goals are particularly Areola’s fault, but being a keeper, you have the burden of every single goal your team concedes on your shoulder.

His phone rings as he walks back to his car and he opens it to find a text from his boyfriend.

_Maybe you’ll be played in the next game_.

Except that he doesn’t. The next match, an away game against Sevilla, Bernd still watches from the bench as Éver Banega buries his third goal in the back of Real’s net, followed by another one by Jesús Navas, and only a single goal by Casemiro in the 87th minute can act as a consolation for them. They do win the game after that, another away game against Levante, but with an unconvincing score of 4-5, and after seeing the replays, Bernd kinda suspects that their fifth goal may be offside anyway, though he doesn’t say anything.

They’re now on the third place in the league, six points behind Barcelona who’s comfortably sitting on the first place, and Bernd knows Zizou is almost at his wits’ end by now. While it’s still possible to catch up with the amount of games remaining, their unconvincing play won’t do them any good. Bernd also has read some news and analysis and knew that some pundits (and fans) have slammed Real’s defense as their main problem, and that Zizou should’ve tried putting Bernd in goal instead.

Bernd doesn’t know what causes Zizou to relent finally. Probably it’s their continuous bad performance, or the pressure from the media and the fans, or maybe he simply just remembers that Real has brought Bernd on loan in the hope to fix their goalkeeping problem, and he doesn’t ask either. All he knows is that Zizou finally comes to him after one training session, a grim look on his face as if he’s about to do something he will regret forever.

“Leno, you’re starting this weekend,” is what he says, as brief and curt as it can possibly be, and before Bernd can even blink, he’s already gone.

Of course the announcement is met by a loud applause by the other Real Madrid players, and the next second everyone’s already all around Bernd, congratulating him for starting finally. Even Areola gives him a rather shy “good luck”, and judging from the younger keeper’s relieved expression, Bernd can’t help wondering whether there may be something else affecting his performance entirely.

(And Toni laughs so loudly that he almost falls off his seat, but at least he refuses to tell everyone why exactly he’s laughing, to Bernd’s relief and gratefulness.)

He texts Marc about it that night and the Barcelona keeper only responds with four heart emojis, two whites, one red and one blue.

And Bernd knows what he means by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like it.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it, the third and last part of this story.
> 
> I swear I'm not writing something like this anymore though, I don't want such things to happen to Bernd Leno :'(
> 
> And again, I don't know much about Barcelona and Real Madrid so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes!

It’s somewhat fitting, Bernd thinks, that his first match in Real Madrid shirt is El Clásico.

Yes, _the_ El Clásico. Against Barcelona. Against Marc.

Alright, he knows that Marc’s not the one he should worry about in this game, since the other keeper would mostly stay on the other side of the pitch. Bernd also certainly hasn’t forgotten that Messi, Suárez and Griezmann are still there, ready to wreak havoc inside Real’s penalty box. And he perfectly understands that this game, being _El Cl_ _ásico_ , is one of the biggest and most important games they have all season, and the chance for them to reduce the point differences between them and Barcelona. Moreover, it also happens to be his debut for Real Madrid, and Bernd’s painfully aware that all eyes are on him right now.

Yet, despite of his usual jitters and nervousness for finally making his debut for a new club, and to play against one of the biggest teams in Spain – if not in the whole world – to boot, Bernd knows why this game feels more personal for him. And the reason happens to be a fellow glove-wearing German in front of Barcelona’s goal. Someone he loves more than anything in the whole world, but also someone he thrives to surpass, to prove to the whole world (but especially Jogi) that he’s actually the better one between them.

And he’ll be damned if he lets go of this chance.

For once, he and Marc don’t call each other the night before the game, and Bernd doesn’t even need to check on his phone in the morning to know that there’s no text from his boyfriend either. But strangely he’s not mad at Marc. He thinks that both of them have reached an unspoken understanding that the thing between them won’t interfere with their games at all cost, especially the ones in which they have to face each other on the pitch. Besides, you can’t possibly say something along the lines of “good luck” to your opponent before a match, no?

The game’s held at Santiago Bernabéu, which Bernd is slightly thankful about. While the game itself won’t be much easier, at least they will be surrounded more by their own fans, and Bernd hopes it will give them advantages during play.

They prepare themselves in the dressing room and Zizou gives them some last minute advice before letting them go. Toni still looks like he’s about to piss himself laughing as they walk towards the tunnel, but a death glare from Ramos manages to squelch him, and Bernd’s sure whatever remains from his laughter has dissipated entirely by the time they line up alongside Barcelona players to enter the pitch.

Marc is there, standing behind Messi, staring straight ahead. He doesn’t smile at Bernd at all, not even sparing his counterpart a single glance. Not that Bernd expects him to, anyway. He knows this match is as important to Marc as it is to him, and perhaps the Barcelona keeper doesn’t wish to risk having his focus ruined if he looks at Bernd. So Bernd simply takes his own place behind Ramos and on cue, walks to the pitch.

After gathering for a team photo and then shaking hands with the Barcelona players – Marc still pointedly not looking at him – Bernd walks to his beloved penalty box. He reaches out to touch the cold metal of the goalpost before putting on his gloves. He can hear the fans behind him, cheering and screaming for his team, and he can’t help a tiny smile slipping onto his face despite of his palpitating heart. He’s missed this.

The referee blows his whistle, and the match starts.

As Bernd has predicted, the game goes hard and fast. It’s almost like a battle in the midfield – every player seems all too keen to get their feet on the ball, and both teams exchange possession of the ball almost in lightning speed.

Of course Bernd stands there readily between the sticks, preparing for any attacks coming his way. But so far every attack from the opposing team can still be intercepted by other Real Madrid players before they even have the chance to enter his box – something that he has to admit he hasn’t experienced for so long, though he would never say that out loud.

The first chance for Real Madrid comes on the 16th minute when Casemiro sends a long ball to Modric, who catches the ball easily and passes it to Hazard who’s already inside Barcelona’s penalty box. But as the Belgian striker tries to convert it into a goal, the ball flies too high over the goalpost instead, much to every Real Madrid players and fans’ chagrin.

Marc retrieves the ball and goes for a goal-kick, sending the ball far past the midline to Real Madrid’s area. Busquets intercepts it easily and passes to Griezmann, but the French forward fumbles the ball a bit and Varane grabs it instead before passing towards Toni. The German midfielder dribbles back to Barcelona’s area, certainly going for a counter-attack, and Barcelona’s defenders quickly scramble back to their penalty box in an attempt to stop him. Bernd watches anxiously as even Marc comes out of his line to steal the ball, but Toni, as cool as he can possibly be, does a lovely chip over Marc’s head and the ball falls onto Rodrygo’s feet, who wastes no chance to smash it into the empty net.

The cheers and yells from the Madridistas are almost deafening as the young Brazilian winger celebrates his goal, followed by hugs and pats from his teammates. Bernd grins to himself as he punches the air. As a goalkeeper, he can’t celebrate alongside his teammates as he’s not exactly allowed to leave the goal, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be happy about it.

The game gets more brutal after the restart. Barcelona presses Real Madrid’s defense more and more, and starts to make a few chances inside the box though their quick passes and attacks. Suárez even sends one long, hard shot from outside the box, though Bernd’s still able to punch it away, and the ball bounces safely on the upper netting. But neither teams are able to create another good chance, and the end of the first half keeps getting closer.

Inside Barcelona’s penalty box, Marc catches Bale’s tame shot rather easily and then throws the ball towards Piqué. The tall defender kicks the ball towards Rakitić who in turn sends a long pass to Messi. The small Argentinian gets the ball to his feet and dribbles past Toni and Casemiro to pierce through Real Madrid’s defense. Bernd watches him anxiously in front of the goal, wondering what Messi is planning to do. Is he going to pass to Griezmann, who’s standing there in the box though guarded by Carvajal, or shoot right away to the goal?

Suddenly the screams from the audience are replaced by the loud “OOOOH” as Messi falls just outside the box, courtesy of Ramos’ tackle. Bernd winces a bit as the Barcelona captain rolls on the ground, groaning in pain. He knows how aggressive Ramos can be, and how the Real captain always seems to be drowning in cards, but surely the tackle, harsh as it seems, doesn’t deserve a red, right?

Thankfully, Messi seems to be fine, as he manages to stand after that and doesn’t seem to be in pain anymore, but the referee still waves a yellow card at Ramos and then gives Barcelona a free kick, which is to be executed by Messi himself.

If there’s something that Bernd – and the whole world – knows about Messi, is that the Argentinian is a genius free kick taker. And he loves to direct his kicks to top bin, something that Bernd as a goalkeeper knows well to be difficult to execute and even more difficult to save. Bernd has watched a lot of clips about Messi’s free kicks before this game and tried to find a pattern in it, but he himself knows he’ll be lucky if he’s even able to get to the right direction.

But there’s no time to mourn about it now. Messi has put the ball on the ground while a few Real players lines up, ready to intercept. The referee blows his whistle, and the Barcelona captain does his thing, sending a long, beautiful, powerful curled ball towards Real Madrid’s goal.

Later after the game, and many other times throughout his career, Bernd would be asked about that particular free kick and what goes through his mind when he jumps to save it. But in all honesty, he has no idea. It’s just like when he did his famous double save against Spurs back then during his early Arsenal days, in which he didn’t even remember what happened aside from him reflexively reacting to the Spurs players’ shots and then managing to parry the ball off his net. And same goes for this time, when he sees the ball flying towards his goal, before he knows it, his body’s already thrown completely to the same direction, his arms and fingers stretched as far as they could, every muscle in his body screaming as he strains them all in an effort to reach the ball…

And he saves it. He still doesn’t know how but he does. He only feels his fingertips on the ball, and as usual, tries to swat it aside, but he doesn’t have the chance to see where the ball goes before he falls on the ground.

Then, before he knows what just happened, suddenly his teammates are all over him, yelling and patting him on his back, and the fans are screaming his name, and he lifts his head to see the ball – outside the net, just edging a few centimeters over the line – and realization washes over him.

He did it.

He just saved Lionel Messi’s free-kick, something that many people find borderline impossible.

And helped his team to maintain the one-goal lead.

And Bernd suddenly understands how Mario must’ve felt when he scored the winning goal against Argentina in the final of 2014 World Cup.

Alright, maybe that’s a bit much. After all, this is “only” a La Liga match, and this game even has yet to end, and Bernd knows Barcelona will still do everything in their power to bombard his net. But _damn_ , it does feel _good_ to be able to save that particular kick.

He can’t enjoy his little victory for too long since Barcelona is rewarded a corner kick, which is executed by Busquets. Thankfully, Varane catches the ball and kicks it away, and the game starts again, and Bernd resumes his position in the middle of the goal.

But then he looks at the other end of the pitch, and he finds Marc looking straight at him. And despite of their distance from each other, Bernd can see that the Barcelona keeper is grinning.

It’s not quite an “I’m-proud-of-you” grin, and not a nasty “We’re-gonna-fuck-you-up” grin either. No, Bernd thinks it means more like “You-did-good-there-but-this-hasn’t-ended-yet”, completed with a slightly challenging look inside Marc’s eyes. But for some reasons, seeing his compatriot sporting such expression warms Bernd’s heart somehow.

Because he knows that, as simple as that single look may seem like for the outsiders (if they even notice it at first place), it means so much more for them. Because Bernd understands that Marc’s grin towards him is the sign that the other keeper finally _acknowledges_ him, not simply as fellow keepers and lovers, but as an _equal_ , a worthy rival.

And Bernd can’t help grinning back at him, as if accepting the dare.

His future in Real Madrid may still be anything but certain. Heck, he even has yet to finish this one match. But he knows that as long as he has his former archenemy turned boyfriend by his side to challenge him, to remind him why they’re rivals at first place, he’ll be ready to face anything in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for ending this in a cliffhanger, but feel free to imagine the end of the match by yourself XD hope you still enjoy it though!
> 
> Anyway, go check [this cover](https://colorsofmyseason.tumblr.com/post/627728278258630658/this-is-made-by-the-lovely-and-talented-nikisuele) made by Myri on tumblr for this fic, I swear she's incredibly lovely and talented 😍😍 thanks bb!
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Check my [tumblr](https://colorsofmyseason.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfiction) for more fic dumps/entries about my supernatural AU!


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